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Party Grandmas

November 22, 2009

I went out last night to help celebrate my oldest niece’s 30th birthday. The party was at a bar in downtown Minneapolis. The Big Nugget was at some computer geek seminar so I drove my brother and his wife downtown with me. Those two, they are askeered to drive downtown.

So there went my night of rowdy drinking. I was the designated driver and bro and sis-in-law were the designated riders. They don’t drink. At all.

Let the madcappery begin!

We wanted to eat out and got downtown about an hour and a half before the party began (we wanted to avoid the dinner rush, which there was none of, but hey — when you are old, you are cautious). The party bar was across the street from Gluek’s, and I like Gluek’s, although I haven’t been there in years. As a matter of fact, in case there’s a test, my first date with The Big Nugget included drinks at Gluek’s.

After dinner, the three of us walked a block over to First Avenue, where my oldest nephew works as a bartender. Fact: First Avenue is where parts of Prince’s movie, Purple Rain, were filmed. It’s my favorite place to go to see Ben Folds at. It’s my old stomping ground, and here is where my widdle nephew bartends. We will haunt that place forever.

We talked the door guys out of charging us a cover charge and went to the upstairs bar and found our nephew. I’m glad we went. He told us that he was leaving the country by the end of the year. We’ll see him for Christmas and then he’ll be off to Japan.

We then went to Bar 508, where the party hadn’t really taken off yet. It ain’t a party until my sister shows up and tells you about the 12 pounds of butter she bought for .99 a pound!

Also? I patted down her mother-in-law, in search of pierogies. Baba makes a mean pierogie. Unfortunately, she had none on her.

It was fun to see all the girls I’ve known, since they were pre-teens, all grown up and married and pregnant or married and not pregnant or not married and not pregnant but dating very nice guys.

I learned something new:

This is what the girls were drinking. They call it a Minnesota Martini.

I want one.

Now.

For breakfast.

A little hair of the dog after that one Grain Belt Premium I had last night.

Alas, I have no beer. Only olives. And olives in my morning coffee aren’t going to do it for me.

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5 Comments leave one →
  1. poolagirl permalink
    November 22, 2009 12:58 pm

    Oh God! We used to drink those at a biker bar in South Dakota (where you could drink beer at age 19). OMG! I haven’t thought about those in years! We called them Harley-Tinis.

  2. erinclot permalink
    November 22, 2009 3:56 pm

    I haven’t been to a show since waaaaay before the boys were born. We’re going to 1st Ave for the Replacements tribute show next Friday!!! After we schlep over to Edina for burgers at Five Guys. Can you tell I’m excited?

  3. November 22, 2009 11:12 pm

    What’s a Minnesota Martini? It looks a little bit like a Long Island Iced Tea?

  4. November 22, 2009 11:20 pm

    Mary – It’s a mug of beer with a couple of olives in it!

  5. November 22, 2009 11:32 pm

    Oh dear. I guess I’m not so interested in trying one after all!

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